Sneaking In
by HappierThanMost
Summary: Pony takes a risk when he helps his brothers sneak back in.


_No rhyme or reason to this one, just felt like writing something light tonight :)_

 **Sneaking In**

Through bleary eyes I blink and squint, trying to get those fuzzy numbers to make some kind of sense, but the harder I focus, the more they all run together. I fumble for the clock on the night stand to bring it right up to my eyes, and I'm trying to recall what woke me up at….2:15?

As soon as I read the time I try to put the clock back but miss the table, too exhausted to care when it lands on the floor instead. I tell myself not to step on it in the morning, but it's as good as crushed, since there's no way I'll remember. Not since sleep's already pulling me gently out of consciousness again.

This time I'm jerked awake by a falling sensation, from one of those crazy surface dreams that make your heart leap and your stomach drop, limbs reacting with split second reflexes not yet paralyzed by deep sleep.

As I'm realizing I'm really not slipping off a six story building but in my warm bed, that's when I hear it. The sound that woke me up in the first place. There's low mumbling, but I can't tell if it's outside or coming from inside the house. My heart races as I sit up fully and listen, head cocked like a dog that hunts.

I hear a snap, a twig underfoot, then a hushed voice, "Shhh…c'mere," coming from the pitch black outside my window, the hour made even darker from all those broken, faithless street lights.

I lie back down and realize it's just Darry and Soda, trying to sneak back in through their bedroom window, the one right next to mine. The front door would've made a lot less ruckus, but they're morons, and they're lucky Mom and Dad sleep at the opposite side of the house.

I hear them struggling to lift it open. "You were supposed to leave it unlocked you idiot." Darry can still sound mean, even in a whisper.

"Hey, that wasn't my job. It's never locked anyway," Soda answers careless and loud, then hiccups.

I'm nervous for them, hoping they make it in soon and I'm about to go to their room and help them in myself, but it'd be my luck Dad would wake up and I'd be caught in the crossfire. I'm not aiming to meet his wrath, which is even scarier in the middle of the night. And I've seen him punish the accomplice just as hard as the one who commits the crime.

"Now what're we gonna do?" I hear Darry's tired frustration. "I can't afford to get busted again Soda, not after what went down last weekend."

Last weekend, Mom found a joint in Darry's pocket. Darry's already graduated high school, too big for a whipping, but he still had to sit at the table and live through Dad yelling at him for a good hour which might be just as bad. And still that wasn't the worst part. Mom's crying had to kill him more than any lecture. She served us our supper with red swollen eyes that night.

"I know, don't worry," Soda answers him and I hear the understanding in his voice. I'm sure if anyone can relate, it's Soda, since he's in trouble more than he's not, and he most definitely can't afford any more punishments on his plate. Plus, he ain't too big yet for Dad to still light his ass up. They were both grounded this weekend and I guess they stole out like thieves after everyone was asleep. Man, teenage life sure seems like a lot of stress.

"Wanna wake up Pony, have him open his window?" Soda suggests. If they'd just take a look they'd see my window's already cracked open, the way I always sleep, letting in July's night breezes and the sound of the tree frogs.

"No," Darry says immediately, squashing the idea. "He'll tell Mom," and he sounds so sure about that. Once again Darry refuses to see I've grown up. My anger burns cause I'm twelve now and to him, I'll never be old enough. In my fury, I think about turning on all the lights and calling Mom in there to catch them, but that would only prove his point I suppose.

"True," Soda agrees, and my breath catches in my throat. It hurts coming from him.

"I guess we're gonna have to go through the front door," Darry sighs, "but that means you've gotta pull it together Sodapop. You think you can sneak down that hallway without making a noise or trippin' over your own feet, Goofy?"

"Damn Darry, you act like I'm a first timer for fuck's sake." Soda cusses like a sailor when Mom and Dad aren't around. "I'm the master of breakin' and enterin'. Let me show you how it's done," and their voices fade as they're walking away towards the porch.

Just then I hear my parents' bedroom door open. By the sluggish and heavy footsteps I can tell Dad's up and moving around. I hold my breath and my body still and pray he passes by both our closed doors, and he does. The bathroom door closes soon after, and I spring into action.

I race to the window and throw it up the rest of the way, hurrying to stop the poor pitiful souls before they sneak through the front door to meet their doom. The six foot three inch wall of muscled doom lurking in our home. My body's leaning half in, half out of my room and I frantically whisper "Psst...Darry, Soda, wait."

I'm able to catch them before they round the corner. They both turn towards me with a surprised jerk, not expecting their little brother to be hanging out a window in his underwear at this hour. "Dad's up," is all I have to say and they both hit the ground like soldiers for their trenches. Darry lets out a steady stream of curses, ending with a "Soda man, we're so fucked." Darry only cusses when he's stressed or mad, which is pretty much all the time.

"Come in this way," I beckon, happy to be the hero, and as they crawl on their hands and knees to avoid the den windows, I smile to myself, proud to show them I can be as mature as they are.

There's a little bit of height to the windows and it's not as easy as it looks. I grab Soda's hand and pull while Darry pushes him from behind. We wrangle and shove and grunt and get nowhere. "Soda, you're pullin' me out, instead of me pullin' you in," I whine as panic's starting to set in. The toilet just flushed and the pressure's on. Instead of trying harder, Soda's body is lying across my sill like a slug, and his shoulders start shaking with his wheezing laughter. Darry reaches up and slaps the back of his head, the only thing that might knock some sense into our brother the loon, but once Soda starts it's hard to break him out of it. I can't see how he's finding humor in any of this.

"Please hurry, I hear him comin'," I beg, and I feel like I'm in some late night movie, where the killer's in the house.

Darry's whisper is now loud and bossy. "Soda, let go of Pony. Pony, you grab his waist and start draggin' him when I push. Soda c'mon, you gotta help us out. Okay guys on three. One...two...three..and I yank my brother's skinny waist with all my might and my eyes open wide with surprise at our sudden strength, how easy his lanky body's now gliding through. Until I see a big hand that wasn't there before, one that's attached to a muscled arm that's coming from behind me, one that's pulling all of Soda's weight by his shirt he's clutching in his solid fist. And I realize Darry isn't even pushing anymore. He's standing there like a deer in headlights from the ground below, watching our father safely pulling Soda in and depositing him on my bedroom floor with hardly any effort.

Soda scrambles to his feet, smoothing his shirt out and clearing his throat. Darry's still frozen, and I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I find myself making a last ditch effort to save this sinking ship. "Thanks guys," I say to my brothers who are staring at me like I'm nuts, then I look up at my Dad who's looking down at me, his eyebrow cocked, wondering where I'm going with this. "I thought I heard somethin' Dad. I made them come check it out. Glad you didn't find nothin' Darry," I say for good measure, looking out at my brother and giving him a hidden wink. Darry just shakes his head, not even going along with it. Well, I can't help someone who won't help himself. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I try and act casual, start walking back to my bed, give a little yawn and say "I'm goin' back to sleep."

I feel Dad's hand gently cup the back of my neck and steer me in the opposite direction. "Oh no you ain't. Y'all three can meet me in the kitchen so you can explain yourselves. And then, y'all can listen to me explain some things to you, real real hard." His voice never rises above his natural level of cool, but it's in his accent that always runs thicker in his anger, and it's in his choice of words that we're able to tell how mad he really is. "Darry, son, I'm gon' let you use the front door like a grown ass man would." And he closes the window right in Darry's miserable face.

The kitchen light does nothing to help my brothers' cases at all. Under the yellow bulb, their hair and clothes look even more disheveled, their eyes look like they've seen a few too many seedy things, their faces wear their guilt. Dad looks relaxed though and takes his sweet time downing a glass of water at the sink before he makes his way to his chair at the head of the table. Without his shirt, I start wondering about his tattoos and if it hurt when he got them. They make him look kinda tough I guess, maybe even mean to other people, but I know the real reason behind them. They symbolize all three of us, his boys, and I find mine on his bicep and although I'm nervous, I relax a little bit, remembering how much he loves me. I'm suddenly feeling really bad for lying.

Slouched over as usual, Dad taps me and tells me to "Sit up straight Ponyboy,"and I know now that I'm gonna be first on his agenda. I look to my brothers and feel a twinge of excitement to be a part of them, one of the guys, but they're uninterested right now in my stake in this game. To them, this is child's play. They've got bigger fish to fry with their rap sheets.

Dad leans in and looks at me real good with his eyes that almost appear like ice against his summer skin. I look at him right back. So far this is pretty easy. I spot a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth, though he's a million miles away from a smile, but I get the sense he appreciates me looking him in the eye. "You wanna tell me that story you gave me Pony. 'Bout your brothers and how they came to your rescue. I admire how they got fully dressed and all to make sure you was safe." He glances over at Darry and Soda, who are looking everywhere else but at him. Dad's now back to me. "Think hard before you tell it again Ponyboy."

I look down and think real hard like he's asked. Watch my thumb dig into my cuticle, take a quick look at Soda who's eyes are wide open, begging in silence for me to bail out. And I know I should save myself. I then look at Darry who's watching me now. Finally. Actually waiting to hear what I have to say.

I shrug and with a soft voice I say, "Darry and Soda were just helpin'. They didn't do nothin' wrong." I end up taking the fall, even though I know it's not going to help my brothers, even though it's a lie that was that never going to be believed. But it's worth all the trouble I'm going to get in, cause I've got two hierarchies in this house. My parents above me, and then my brothers above me. I figure it's time to grow up and show my brothers who I am.

Dad sits back up in his chair, runs a hand through his messy hair and I don't quite know how to read his face but I'm almost positive the look in his eyes is bordering tender. All he says is, "I was gonna let you run free little man, but you had to open up that mouth and let all them lies drip out. Now run along to bed and I'll deal with you in the light of day."

What? I don't want to leave the table. I earned my place here. I can't desert my men now. I look over at my brothers who're both looking at me like I'm some kid who's lost his mind, not with the respect I'd hoped for. I swallow hard and slowly leave the table, downtrodden, taking an easy swat to the behind from Dad when I pass him. That's just great. How embarrassing.

I try and listen to the meeting I've been kicked out of, I try and stay awake for the verdicts, but I guess I'm as young as they think I am and instead fall fast asleep.

It's when the boys come back up the hall to bed that I stir, their footsteps never light, and through hazy, half lidded eyes I see their silhouettes standing by my bed. I wonder why they're not in their room, and I might chalk it up to a dream if I didn't actually feel Soda's hand on my shoulder. "You're a cool kid, Pony," he whispers and I'm glad to hear the smile around his words. Maybe he got off easy.

It's when Darry speaks though that I'm truly surprised. "It was Class A what you did back there Ponyboy." He's already unbuttoning his shirt and turns to leave. Soda gives me a gentle pat and follows him out, shutting my door behind them.

 **A/N:** The Outsiders by SE Hinton

 _Thanks for reading me!_


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